


The Ring In Return

by random0factor



Category: HLVRAI - Fandom
Genre: Character Death, Gen, I had a reason, Not tagging Gordon because apparently the tags aren't separated, This is a prequel to Unheavenly Creatures, Writing request, also no relationship because this is a prequel, and I should be sleeping right now, but I'm not connecting them right now, but it's been a long day, fic request, we do discuss death via grenade a lot here so be careful, we're hobbiting this shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29379546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/random0factor/pseuds/random0factor
Summary: The best place to start is at the beginning, or so I've heard. Sometimes, though, it's okay to rewind for a little more context.There's an Incident, a Revival, a Phone Call, and an Agreement.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	The Ring In Return

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! If you're reading this, you must really like Unheavenly Creatures, because, uh... Why else would you be here? 
> 
> Peachbites! This one's for you! Your prompt seriously helped me - I appreciate it so very much! I hope this is satisfactory!

It ends, as many things do, with a big bang.

Literally.

The grenade goes off at Benrey’s feet and he’s launched up, up and away, literally _off_ _his feet_ , not in the fun way like when he riles up Coomer or Bubby and gets tossed around like a ragdoll for a few minutes. It’s actually kind of scary, feeling his limbs disintegrate, and the last thing he’s able to think before he gets forcibly yeeted into the air is _I hope Gordon’s far enough away-_

And then it’s dark.

It’s dark for a really, really long time.

It’s… boring. It’s always boring, waiting to respawn. He can’t really think when stuff like this happens. No brains. Though Gordon would say that about him normally… So would most of the Science Team, honestly. Except for Tommy, who would always rebut in a way that was not one-hundo-percent confident, but full of feeling, like _No, Benrey, I - I don’t think you’re brainless. Just… thick… skulled._ Always knew how to make Benrey feel special. He might wonder if Tommy got out, too, but Tommy had already been around the corner and down the hallway when the ambush hit, and between that and the special Magnum that Benrey had looted off his supervisor’s body, he didn’t think Tommy needed to be worried about much. Gordon on the other hand? Gordon was right there. Benrey’d shoved him out of the way and jumped on the explosive before he had time to shout.

Anyway. Death was boring. It was the literal opposite of a stream of consciousness, just being able to feel time pass, without being able to think. It’s literally torture to Benrey. Being dead? Worse than dying? It’s a tough call, but he’d have to say yeah. Being dead sucks.

He sinks into the void-space, ignoring the part of him that says he could come back as a skeleton and be at least _conscious_ a little bit sooner. He really doesn’t want to deal with the scientists, though. He’d learned his lesson the first few times he came back as a skeleton to just straight up not. After all, how many times would the scientists make up ways for him to die just so they could examine the living skeleton when he was half-baked? 

Exactly. It was better to just take a bit longer and wait for his cells to re-coalesce and re-form and that way, at least, he wouldn’t have to deal with… them. Plus, this way, he didn’t have to report to work for a bit longer. He’d take it, no matter how boring it was.

The seconds drag by, agonizingly slow, slower than - slower than - He’s not gonna say it. He’s not gonna rip off Tommy’s bit. If he had emotions when he was like this, he’d grin or something, thinking of his friend. As it is, he has to wait for everything. Eventually, time starts to speed up again, and he feels like his respawn might be close to over. If he could feel anticipation, he’d be feeling it right now, waiting to get back to living.

It ends, as many things do, with a big bang.

Maybe it’s more accurate to say it begins, or starts - starts again. He’s heard Gordon ramble endlessly about The Big Bang Theory, not the TV show but the actual beginning of the universe and - well. He knew enough about the universe and its beginnings because of him. He figured it would be an accurate comparison. All his atoms and bits and pieces coming into existence in a _pop_. Benrey can’t really think about Gordon, he’s too busy experiencing coming to life again, but -

“Took you long enough.”

That was a voice he hadn’t heard in a very long time. How long had it been? A year? Two? Longer?

“Forzen?” Benrey sat up in - was this a bed?

No, it was a camping cot, and his frantic shifting made it snap up from the middle, sandwiching him like lettuce. He phased through it and fell on his ass. The bed fell on top of him, one of the legs smacking him in the head.

He hadn’t been expecting _Forzen_ of all people.

“Oh god, you fucking dumbass!” Forzen laughed. It was like the past however long hadn’t happened. “Get up, you’re gonna break it.”

“You - what?” Benrey shoved the bed off him and looked around. It was the middle of the day - they were in the middle of some - weird. Well, there weren’t really enough trees to call it a forest, but it was almost close. Closest he’d ever seen. Cars rumbled in the distance, but he couldn’t see any. He was surprised. “Where are we?”

“Few miles from Black Mesa. They’re too busy digging through the rubble for survivors to notice we’re gone.” Forzen sounded smug. “They probably think that, even if we died, we’ll come back-”

“Wait - we’re out?” Benrey looked at his hands. Hands of a free man. Freeman! “What happened - There were - I was with -”

“You jumped on a grenade. Do you not remember?” Forzen asked sarcastically. Benrey just stared at him. “I got your head, biggest piece of you there was. Good thing you were able to come back. I couldn’t leave you behind.”

Oh. Benrey felt something warm in his chest. He covered up his mouth with a shaky hand, looking anywhere but his older brother. It would be just his fucking luck if a burst of Sweet Voice let Forzen know how much he appreciated him. They hadn’t seen each other in over a year since Benrey’d refused to leave his job and transfer to a new department, even after Forzen smoothed the way. He’d… Forzen’d cared enough to grab his head before he ran. That was really… nice of him.

“... Thanks, bro.” Benrey said. “Was tryin’ to kick it down the hallway, actually. Did - were there any…?”

“Any what?” Forzen asked, a little snippy. Oh, he was packing - he probably wanted Benrey to make a move, too. 

“Any, uh, others who - uh. D- Got hit. In the blast.” Benrey folded the bed, probably wrong, but he was helping. “Was there anybody else there?”

“Not where I found you. Saw you on the cameras during the meltdown, but I didn’t really wait after I saw the explosion. Apparently, a bunch of marines down the hall got their shit kicked in by somebody who had _great_ aim, but I didn’t see anybody when I did my pass. Was that you?” Benrey shook his head. “Honestly, you’re lucky I was there to get you out of that hellhole. Come on, we need to get a move on. Had to stop when you stopped being just a head and turned into a sack of bones. You ready?”

“... As I’ll ever be.” Gordon and Tommy weren’t dead - He’d put all his money, if he had any, on Tommy being the one with uncanny aim. Unless Forzen was being sarcastic. He could have been being sarcastic; it’s something he does sometimes. Benrey didn’t think so, though. “Where we headin’?”

“Any-fucking-where else.”

“I’ve got some, uh. Ideas. If you wanna try ‘em.” 

“What kind of ideas?” Oh shit. Benrey actually had to come up with something. He thought back, thinking of anything he and Forzen were technically qualified to do. He wasn’t really coming up with anything until he remembered Gordon griping, at least once a month, about how a life of crime would be more lucrative and easier than anything he was doing. Ignoring the fact that he made six figures right out of college...

“Uh. How d’ya feel about robbing banks?” Forzen looked surprised for a millisecond, then grinned.

“You? Suggesting law breaking? I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Listen, just because I was the one who followed the rules-”

“You woulda still been in Black Mesa, throwing yourself on grenades for ungrateful scientists, if it hadn’t been for me _breaking the rules_.” Forzen said. Benrey didn’t like the undercurrent in his voice - the part that said he should be _thankful_. He wanted to tell Forzen to fuck off, but the frustration died in his throat. He’d missed his brother the past few years. He didn’t want to ruin it this early in their run. “Exactly. Now come _on_.” Forzen offered his hand. Benrey took it.

“I, uh, know somebody who could help us. Gotta - gotta stop by and see if he’d be free.” Benrey said. 

“Pff. No wonder you’re such a lawbreaker now - you started hanging out with a bad crowd.” Forzen laughed, slapping Benrey on the back. Benrey laughed too.

“I’m serious, though. I need to see this guy. He uh. He’s got that insider info.”

“What, is he some kind of professional thief?” Forzen asked.

“Hmmmmno.”

“Then why the hell should we talk to him?”

“Do you know anything about this world?” Benrey gestured around them. It was still and silent between the trees; not even cars rumbled outside his sightline. “Because I don’t. We’re gonna need somebody who knows at least a bit about this place. How to - how to be a people. Besides, they might have a better idea for how to - how to live free. He’s done the whole ‘disappearing act’ before. Probably knows how to do more than that, if we need it. Do you have any better ideas? Anything growing under that red beret? Anything - uh - you’d like to share?”

Forzen grumbled, but after a second, he shook his head. Benrey picked up the other bag and threw it over his shoulder. It wouldn’t be fair to make him carry both bags. See? He was already helping. Giving Forzen advice and a place to start. A way to _stay_ free, not just _get_ free. Forzen knew it, too. What was the point of being free if they were miserable?

“Plus, it’s been - it’s been a bit since I saw him. I wanna make sure he’s okay.” Benrey muttered.

“Gay.”

“Shut up.” Benrey rolled his eyes. What was Gordon’s address, again?

-

It’s been almost a week. Almost a week since he fucked everything up. Almost a week since he was unceremoniously fired after trying to fix things. Almost a week since he saw Benrey die in a fucking grenade explosion. Well, actually - _well, actually_ his brain cut in, like a fucking know-it-all, _You didn’t_ actually _see Benrey die. You just heard the explosion and assumed. And you were too busy leading Tommy into a trap to go back and check on him. Great job!_

It definitely wasn’t the reason Gordon’d passed out last night on the couch, no sir. That last thing was _easy_ for Gordon to forget. It wasn’t like he’d been drinking himself to sleep the past few nights or anything, just drinking to take the edge off, so he could fall asleep in the first place. It wasn’t like watching dozens of scientists die, capped off by a grenade killing one of his closest friends - God. Benrey had been one of his closest friends, and he’d never told him. Just the day before - before the meltdown - he’d been giving him shit for being annoying about shitty safety protocols. He was glad he couldn’t cry anymore - his head pounded so much, it felt like he was gonna die.

Why was he awake? It was too early in the day for this. The sun was still out, after all. Gordon felt his high school almost-goth phase coming back to him. Not that he’d ever been able to dress in all black with the lace and fishnets. Not that he’d dress like that now. Still, the contempt he felt for the world at large and the sun in particular made him feel every bit of teenage angst again. He would have laughed if it didn’t make his head throb even more.

Did he have anything left to drink? He wasn’t sure. Maybe he could take the edge off that way. He didn’t want to be sober anymore. He considered going to the liquor store down the street, but he didn’t trust himself behind the wheel of a car. Oh _wait_ , he didn’t _have_ a car anymore! That’s right! 

Fuck. Gordon rolled to face the back of the couch, trying to block whatever light got around the edges of his Energy Saver Blackout Curtains, which were a weird shade of peach for the explicit reason that he got them on sale when he moved out of the Coomers’. He didn’t need anything that was a different color because _they’re_ _curtains_ , _Harold, I’ll move them to the bedroom if I start working the night shift -_

Maybe, if he just laid here… the world would move on without him. It’s what he deserved.

He got a minute, maybe two, of moping in before his phone started _blaring_ from the ottoman. He scrambled, reaching for it, trying not to fall out of the couch - was that the fucking _Knuckle’s Rap?_

That was… That was Benrey’s ringtone. The one member of the group that he hadn’t blocked, because it was totally unnecessary. There was no way a dead person could call him. He’d blocked Harold, and Bubby shortly after, then Tommy. He still had their numbers saved, but they couldn’t call him. He’d had to block Dr. Green’s when Bubby got ahold of her phone and started harassing him; same with Dr. Kleiner’s. It seemed that almost everything was back to the normal level of chaos at Black Mesa. All it was missing was him… And Benrey.

Benrey’s dead. No coming back from that. And Gordon was directly to blame for this one - he couldn’t blame the _aliens_ \- he shuddered at the memory - because they hadn’t been the ones to deal the final blow. He couldn’t blame the military - If he hadn’t been leading them down some misremembered path to the trolley hub, Benrey wouldn’t have had to push Gordon out of the way and jump on a grenade that wasn’t meant for him. He had nobody to blame but himself. Himself and his cowardly inability to fucking _move_ when he was scared.

The phone started going off again in his hand. He tried to shove the hope down. But that was Benrey’s contact photo, and this was his ringtone, and that said it was his number… Unless somebody was spoofing his number. That was the only logical explanation, right?

… Right?

The glass of his phone screen was cracked. He avoided the diagonal shard, trying not to get a cut on his thumb. It was… 2:57 in the afternoon. Couldn’t he sleep the day away in _peace_?

“Feetman!” Benrey’s voice barked; the phone wasn’t even on speaker, he was just _loud_. “Wake up!”

Gordon dropped the phone on his face.

What - “What -” Gordon scrambled off the couch looking for the phone. It was a video call - how had he not noticed? He landed on all fours and tried to feel for the phone, not bothering with his glasses. Not that he knew where they were. Fucking… Shit. He managed to grab the phone, but not without cutting himself on the edge of the glass. He hissed in pain, pulling the phone closer to his face. “... Benrey?”

There, in the bright New Mexico midafternoon, stood Benrey, wearing a huge piss-yellow hoodie and some jeans that obviously weren’t sized for him. Gordon stared at what he could see on the phone screen. 

Benrey. 

“Wow, Freeman, you look a bit shit.” Benrey said. It was him - he was there, in the flesh. “You okay, man? Crying over me like - uh -”

Gordon took a deep breath and bit his knuckle, not able to stop the tears that welled up in his eyes. He choked and sobbed while Benrey looked on. Benrey, the most precious - _No_ \- the most important - _No_ \- he was just so damn happy to see him alive and well! He was fine! He totally didn’t have any feelings for the obtuse security guard that he’d only realized when they were escaping, that he’d had to bury after watching them explode into a million billion pieces trying to protect him and Tommy. It’s fine. It was fine! Because Benrey was back, and he obviously wasn’t going to stop bugging Gordon.

“Shut up, man.” Gordon got out after a minute. He opened his mouth again, but Benrey’s voice cut him off before he could talk.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Benrey asked. He was too loud - always too loud. Gordon winced at the throbbing in his head. “Don’t - don’t fukken talk! You breaking your own rules now? Fucking up your throat? Huh? Never gonna - never gonna be the opera’s phantom if you keep - keep that shit up. Never gonna sing along with the golden pipes.”

Gordon choked on a sob that tried to turn into a laugh. Everything hurt. He slowly stood up, trying to make his way to the kitchen so he could take some ibuprofen, but the kitchen faced west and didn’t have any curtains. He signed a casual “So what?” at Benrey through the phone and winced.

“Or I’m gonna tape your mouth shut! Don’t think I won’t!” Gordon grinned through the pain and propped his phone up on a stand in the kitchen for this exact purpose; he’d made it at Black Mesa out of some scrap metal he’d found. “Use your hand-words, please, _thank_ you. Good god, bad listener. I told you not to steal - to uh, follow the rules, and look what you did.”

“How did you get out?” Gordon signed. “I literally saw you -”

“Psh, you should know they can’t stop me.” Benrey shrugged. It still didn’t explain anything. Gordon was still half convinced this was all a hallucination cooked up by his overheated, over-alcoholed brain. “My bro - Forzen - he grabbed me.”

“Forzen?” Gordon fingerspelled. “Is he the one you called a dick?”

“Yeah.” Benrey grinned. Gordon reached for a glass in the cabinet; when he pulled one out, his glasses were tucked inside. Obviously, Drunk Gordon was smarter than Hungover Gordon. He slid the glasses on and blinked owlishly. He tipped two pills out of the bottle into his hand. “Seriously, you look like shit. What happened? Why aren’t you at work?”

Gordon paused, the pills sitting at the back of his throat, coating his mouth with the bitter taste. He unfroze and took a sip of water from the tap, using the glasses glass. 

“Got fired.”

Benrey was so quiet he thought the call had been dropped. He looked over once he’d swallowed, genuinely concerned - normally Benrey would make a joke about him sucking, or swallowing, or something else equally juvenile. Benrey’s was still there, pixelated as he was, and Gordon could almost make out a less-than-happy expression on the bitrate chewed face. He made his own curious face in return and tried to swish the bitter taste out of his mouth.

“Sucks, man.”

“Yeah.”

“So.”

“So.” Gordon signed.

“You wanna rob a bank with us?”

Gordon’s brain bluescreened.

“What.”

“Don’t - don’t fucking talk!” Benrey looked like he was gonna try to reach through the phone and bop him with something, but even his weird alien abilities didn’t let him pull off stuff like that. “I swear, idiot geniusman. You’re gonna fuck up your throat even more and then you’re gonna cry, wah, my throat hurts all the time.” Benrey cut himself off. “You heard me. You talk about it all the time - wanna help us rob a bank?”

“You want me to help you rob a bank.”

“I literally just said that.”

“What makes you think I have any experience with robbing banks?” Gordon asked.

“I-D-K. You talk about it all the time. How you learned from your dad how to.” Gordon nodded absently. He had, hadn’t he? He’d learned a lot about how to commit crimes from his dad, however unintentional those lessons had been. Hiding evidence, covering up fingerprints, getting away from the scene of the crime; How Not To Get Caught 101, taught by the single father who couldn’t help bringing his work home. 

“Go on.” He gestured.

“Well, you obviously know some crazy spy stuff from your dad.” Benrey said, and Gordon snorted. His dad had been a police chief, not some James-Bond-esque, double-0-whatever spy. “Plus, you’re a genius. Don’t get all shy, I’m just repeating what I’ve heard.” Benrey smirked a pixelated smirk from the phone; Gordon turned away, trying to hide his blush.

Benrey wasn’t wrong, technically. Gordon hadn’t graduated top of his class for nothing - admittedly, he hadn’t taken as many extracurriculars as he could have his last few semesters, but he was also working as an intern at Black Mesa by then, so… Gordon shrugged. Benrey _pshhed_ on the other end of the line.

“Don’t make me butter you up anymore, Freeman. You in?”

“What makes you think I’m free to help you rob a bank?” Gordon asked sardonically.

“Uh.” Benrey stared blankly at Gordon, and Gordon felt another blush rising. Oh yeah. He’d already told Benrey he was fired.

“Fuck you.” Gordon fingerspelled. It always had more impact that way. “I’ve got - I’ve got so much other shit going on right now -”

“Yeah, right. It’s the middle of the day and you’ve got a hangover.” Benrey rolled his eyes. Of course that moment came through the phone crystal clear - it couldn’t have been when he was complimenting Gordon, of _course_ not. Just when he was making fun of him. 

“Shut up, Benrey.” Gordon snapped. “Just - shut up. What makes you think I’d be any good?”

“You talk about it all the time. You have plans and plans for if those go wrong-” 

“Fat lot of good that did me.” Gordon signed while Benrey was talking.

“- And you always say it’s gotta be easier than dealing with Black Mesa’s shit. Plus we always work good together. Fortnight.” Benrey smirked.

Gordon leaned against the countertop and considered. He turned his phone with one hand while he thought; Oh shit, he was still bleeding. He stuck the injured finger in his mouth and hmmed around it. 

Was Benrey serious? Oh, undoubtedly. Benrey had a way of stuttering and fidgeting whenever he was being genuine, or whenever he was trying to convince somebody to go along with him. It was the same way he’d acted the first time he asked Gordon if they could go to GameStop on one of their illegal Black Mesa escapes. Hell, it was the same way he acted when he wanted somebody to walk to the vending machines with him.

Gordon sighed. What should he do? 

Well. Aperture had sent him the barely-professional equivalent of a “LOL NO” when he’d sent in his resume, and the other two labs hadn’t so much as responded. He was pretty sure he’d be jobless for months at this rate, and he’d used up all of his signing bonus on top surgery about a year ago. That made him wince. He’d been planning a party to celebrate - just him and the Science Team, but… that obviously wasn’t going to happen. 

His degree was too niche, and his thesis had been so narrow and aimed specifically at Black Mesa’s research targets that he couldn’t leverage it anywhere else. Not that anyplace would want somebody like him. Black Mesa didn’t fire people. Once you got level two clearance, you were theirs forever. Sign on the dotted line and sell your soul. He didn’t want to resort to teaching at some small town college if he could help it. Or, god forbid, high school.

So. Robbing banks.

… Was he seriously interested?

Now that the haze of his hangover was starting to recede, he felt… Excited about the idea. More excited than he had about anything else this week. He wanted to get back at the world for a bit, make it regret the day it decided to fuck up his life. Heck, the idea of punching that smarmy CEO-Government-Man in the face didn’t bring him this much joy. Arguing in circles about whose fault the portal storm was… God, he felt his blood pressure rise just thinking of it. He took a deep breath, unintentionally cutting off Benrey’s background ramblings.

“What’s up?”

“Just thinking.” Gordon signed. His finger had stopped bleeding! “Are you like - are you really serious about this?”

“Heck yeah, man.” Benrey said. The only time Gordon had heard Benrey more enthused was when he’d heard rumors about a Heavenly Sword 2 game being in development. He couldn’t help snorting. “What?”

“What about Forzen? Your brother?”

“Uh. I dunno if you noticed, Feetman, but we can’t really get real jobs.” Benrey shrugged, moving his whole arm and the phone with it. “At least with some illegal money we can live it up a bit. Maybe get fake identities, get a life. You know.”

Oh, right. They weren’t real people. Gordon felt shame just thinking that - they weren’t _registered_ people? He’d work on it. 

The point stood. They didn’t have identities outside of Black Mesa. They didn’t even have half the chances Gordon did, as much as he’d fucked up. 

“What if we get caught? You guys gonna break me out of prison with your weird alien powers?” Gordon asked, trying to make the mood lighter. He didn’t know if Benrey felt the pressure the same way he did, but it was starting to get to him. “I mean, I haven’t said I would yet - I’m just asking-”

“Of course!” Benrey sounded so earnest that Gordon stilled his hands. “You think we’re just gonna leave somebody behind? This goes both ways. You come back for us, we come back for you. No man left behind.”

 _No man left behind_. Gordon felt the bottom of his stomach drop out of him in shame. He’d left Benrey behind. Hadn’t he? He’d have to pay him back for it. If he was remotely on the fence about it before, he wasn’t anymore. He’d make sure Benrey never ended up in Black Mesa again, or prison, or anything like that. Even if he took the fall himself - it wasn’t like his life wasn’t already over at this point, anyway. Gordon Freeman, disgraced theoretical physicist, fired from his first big-boy job less than two years after being hired because he’d accidentally caused a localized apocalypse. Then again, how many people could put that on their resume?

So. He had two alien-human hybrids who wanted him to help them rob banks, for fun and for profit, just because he’d joked about it on hard days back in Black Mesa. He didn’t have any experience - and he didn’t have any skills. He’s learned harder things on the fly before though. 

Besides, anything was better than wasting away in the New Mexico desert. After throwing his little tantrum, as Bubby’d called it, there was no way he could go back to him and Harold. Provided he didn’t get caught - or that Benrey came back and busted him out - he couldn’t see it going wrong. He could trust Benrey.

“Fine.” Gordon signed. He’d cut Benrey off.

“- and you’ll get half of everything we pull out of - you’re serious?” Gordon smirked at Benrey’s change in direction. 

“I said I would.” Gordon signed. “Wait, you said your brother would be helping. Wouldn’t we split the spoils three ways?”

“Fuck him. Half and half.”

“I’m not taking half the money, Benrey. Three equal shares.”

“Fine.” Benrey’s smirk was relieved and fond and - and something else, underneath it all. A little smug, like he’d known Gordon would say yes all along. Whatever, it wasn’t like Gordon’d said yes just because it was Benrey asking.

… Okay, it totally was. But Gordon would die before he admitted that out loud.


End file.
